


A Children's Poet and You Don't Know It

by AfflictedwithAlliteration



Series: Licorice Bites [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Drabble writing, Fluff, Murdering demons and violence depicted, Poem Based Chapters, Reader Had a Life, Reader is Not a Fighter, Reader is your basic DID (Damsel in Distress), Reader-Insert, Relationships with poets suck, Smut, Vignette Writing, non-linear storytelling, sibling shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfflictedwithAlliteration/pseuds/AfflictedwithAlliteration
Summary: Half the words he said didn't mean anything and the other half are incomprehensible. What was it with poets and not just saying what they mean?





	1. Diving Board-Shel Silverstein

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! This is mostly connected but random drabbles, V-centric sometimes Gen. Forewarning. I've watched the anime, I know the premise, I've read fanfic, I've read the manga and the novels but I've never played DMC. Can't, no system and I get gnarly motion sickness playing dual analog games or games with lots of motion (VNs and puzzle games for me or standard turn based RPG games. Yes, yes it does limit my gaming ability but it doesn't stop me from enjoying the games world or games themselves nor the fanfic that steams from the the fandoms!). So, if anything is too OOC...eh, sue me. It's fanfic, writings can be close but we are never canon nor are we hundred percent non-OOC, and yes this was absolutely my long-winded excuse for any character portrayal fuck ups :D
> 
> Other shorter winded notes: Most chapters are prompts I've given myself based off Silverstein and Dahl poems. Their poems are my life. Yes, there is a general theme and kinda plot but its not linear nor does it have to be read as such. Poem titles are the chapter title so if you want to know where they came from, look them up! Any other poems will be tagged at the end.

* * *

"We can't."

And you know he won’t. 

V isn't the type. He's too distanced, no matter how many times he's saved your ass, no matter how many times he's helped you or lended an ear he refused to accept the same in return. You should respect it but to get over it you have to try, can't he at least let you say it? Instead he simply pulls away from any contact you give, any words you offer, these same words repeated to you over and over like a mantra. 

But you had to try. Closing your eyes you try to recall the words from the book, their hazy in your memory and you know it won't be entirely correct but softly, face redder than you want it to be, you whisper out the parts of the childish poem. You’d always found it both silly and stupidly motivating, one you're teachers kept posters of on the walls. Even knowing this, even attempting to meet him have way, all mocking gone it's still is hard to meet his gaze but now his focus is on you entirely as your voice reaches his ears. 

“You’ve been up on that diving board,  
You’ve been up there since half passed five  
Doing everything…”

You inch closer, reaching a hand up slowly so he can push it away if wants as you breathe out the last words, “but dive.” 

You awkwardly meet his gaze one had resting carefully on his chest the other on his cheek. You can feel the flutter of his pulse under one hand and the muscle in his cheek jump with the other. You're not nearly as well versed in reciting poetry but you had wanted to try, to show him and feel like you tried so you could stop this long-suffering crush. Cringing a bit you try to shake off your nerves as you wait for him to process what you just said, his eyes burning a hole through yours as if he can see inside your head. You just smile nervously, "So how about it? Wanna dive?"


	2. Needles and Pins-Shel Silverstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem isn't actually in this but the idea came from the last of the "Needles and Pins" Poem.
> 
> "Captain and crew,  
> Captain and crew,  
> Take me, oh take  
> To anywhere new."

* * *

“We don’t have time for this.” 

“It’s fine, it’s on the way.”

It is. 

Weirdly enough because your home…you home is gone. Lost in the fray of demonic things raising from the ground and toppling what had once been a city, your house one of the many not spared. The closer you get you stare at the mass, of what amounted to trash that you’re headed to, that had once been your house. You think Nero takes you there on purpose, he seems the type. Teach you a lesson, show you you have to leave, kill the stubbornness when you'd told them leave you to rot where they'd found you but...you can’t do it. Not again. 

So when they stop, Nero clearly expecting you not to get off, you hop out and give a cheery wave goodbye.

Tentacles are ripped through half of it. You don’t even need the key that you toss into the dirt. It’s like Déjà vu. Your lips tremble as you make your way in. This time, she wasn’t going to be there to take you to the next town. You close your eyes but maybe if you went to the next town there wouldn’t be demons. Maybe you could run far away from them just like she’d ran toward them with vengeance you never could sway. 

Steadying yourself you open your eyes and totter farther in, the top floor is clearly not to be used, the bottom is half open but—

The garden.

The gardens fine. As fine as the plants can be while their likely being poisoned by the demon…things around them.

You pull one of the strawberries then finally slip to the floor, pretending it’s unripened state is why you’re crying. 

“You can’t stay here.”

“…don’t you have a mission to get to or something?” You mutter a tad bitterly, viciously biting into another ruined strawberry as you rub you eyes to gaze up at Nero blankly.

"Just leave her!" The bird snaps, V staying silent in the background as he takes in the wreckage. It's like show and tell as as you hear the low whistle of Nico following behind staring at the wreckage of your home. Well, what was your home. Now it was no better than firewood. 

"Well damn, looks worse than a scrap yard."

"We will escort you to another city." V says carefully, obviously weary of your previous temper tantrums. You give him a sneer but you close your eyes because without their offer your stuck here till something eats you.

"Yeah, girl, you can't stay here. We already took you this far, ain't no problem taking you farther long as you pay up."

You're going to decline. Tell them to get the fuck out of your house and leave you but...you can't stay here and you don't really wanted to die you just don't have anyone once else to blame for--

You dust off your pants and savor another bitter strawberry as you head back to what used to be a door to wait in the van, "Sure thing, Captain. Whatever isn't trash is yours."


	3. The Marriage of Heaven and Hell Meets Eyes of Beauty-Charles Baudelaire & William Blake

“You don’t have to do this!”

“I will see it through!” His voices snaps a bit and you know he’s losing patience with you. He never does have patience for your temper tantrums. 

“Remember what you told me? I don’t have to go like her? I don’t have to go fight! It’s not my fight and this one isn’t yours! You aren’t Vergil or the other guy! You’re you.” You try to come up with more reasons but you know this isn’t a fight you’ll win. But you have to try, you don't want to lose him when you've barely had him. You can't stand losing another person. Your voice breaks on the word and you hate yourself for even voicing it, “Please.”

He features soften but not with what you want. You look away but his gaze is always so clear and unforgiving. He was so fucking stubborn. 

“Once meek, and in a perilous path,  
The just man kept his course along  
The vale of death.”

“God damn it, V, stop with the poems—”

“If I don’t go there is nothing but death waiting for you here.”

Your throat tightens and you glare at the ground. Eventually him and his stupid sandaled feet creep into your gaze, blurring into a mess of colors as his cane tips your watery gaze up to his.

“In vain your hand glides my faint bosom o'er,  
That which you seek, beloved, is desecrate.”

“You know I still have no idea what you’re talking about, poet.” You warble out then push his cane away to scrub at your eyes and reach for his hand, “But if you have to do this then I’m going too.”

It seems V, too, has learned which arguments he can win and only squeezes you hand in response as you back make your way to the van.


	4. I Had a Little Nut Tree-Roald Dahl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first poem V quotes is the last verse "On Being Human" by C.S. Lewis

* * *

"You think you're so smart don't you?" You said glaring up at both the bird then V. Him and his stupid poems, if he would just say what he meant maybe you wouldn't want to throttle him every five seconds. You don't know why you expected his words to anything other than insipid prose. It was like he enjoyed watching you rage or at the very least was amused by the fact that you didn't understand half of his cheeky jabs. But you didn't need to understand them to know what they meant. Kind of. God you were going to kill him one day. 

"Smarter than you at least," The bird chirped happily, dodging the rock you threw easily, "but that's not saying much."

"Yet here, within this tiny, charmed interior,  
This parlour of the brain, their Maker shares  
With living men some secrets in a privacy  
Forever ours, not theirs."

The next rock was aimed at V who hardly had to move to dodge it as you stormed away.

* * *

"You wanted to come all this way for damned book?" Nico asked while you nodded then skimmed through, ripping out a few pages then tossing it.

"Yup."

"...I don't wanna know and we gotta go."

You grinned. It was payback is what it was. 

* * *

You'd been waiting for three days. Three longs days.

"Would you be a dear and help me move this?"

But there is was. That wonderful question. You grinned at V, and his eyes narrowed briefly, glancing down to your hands as if you were going to pelt him something again but you only smiled wider, voice chipper. 

"Oh little tree, I begged  
Give me just a few!  
The little tree looked down me and whispered..." you paused meaningfully before sauntering away, "nuts to you."

The birds laughter was not surprising but the light chuckle you heard was and if you cheeks turned bright read at the sound, well, he couldn't see you anyway.


	5. A Dream within a Dream-Edgar Allen Poe

Your bluffs were catching up with you but no had called you on. Well, the obnoxious bird had but you threatened to cook it after taking a page on how to shut it up from Nico. It made you wish for makeup to hide the bags as you sleepily helped drive and get supplies with Nico but at night you didn't pretend and only laid on the floor of the van, eyes wide and flinching at every noise outside, waiting for some demon to rip through and rend you into tiny flesh bits just like it had—

Quietly you covered your mouth to still the loud gasp filling up the quiet interior of the van. You heard rustling but nothing stopped the soft snoring of you companions. The soft turning of pages made you stiffen for a second, but the owner of the pages didn’t say a work even if you could see the faint light they used to read. So, you weren’t the last one up.

It was almost comforting. 

Enough to at least let your eyes slip shut for a minute until—

The wind shook the van and you sat upright, eyes snapping open like they’d never been shut, the air stuck in your lungs as you waited for the next thing but there was…nothing. Shakily you exhaled and tensed when you realized the pages had stilled but the light was still on. But V said nothing to you, and you relaxed a bit though you didn’t bother to lay down.

For what seemed like ever there was silence and then, softly, so softly you almost missed it, “Does my light bother you?”

“Uh—” You could say yes but then he’d turn it off. At first you shook your head then flushed when you realized he couldn’t see it, “Nope.”

Eloquent. You winced at the terse answer, how soft and squeaky it came out. 

And there was silence again until you heard his voice again softly, but not directed at you.

“Take this kiss upon the brow!  
And, in parting from you now,  
Thus much let me avow —  
You are not wrong, who deem—forgive me, I’ve kept you up with my reading.”

Your eyes snapped open. When had they even shut? It took you several seconds to process what he said before you could answer, “Don’t stop!” You winced at how loud you were, but no one seemed to wake up, “I mean…no…it’s fine.”

He doesn’t comment on your slip up, his quiet voice floating back to you once more as he continues his recital.

“That my days have been a dream;  
Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream…”

V trails off to stare at your sleeping form. You’re snoring softly, exhausted from your sleepless nights and still sitting up, leaned against the front seat. He is almost tempted to move you but that might wake you again, so he leaves you there and turns off the light. 

And nights later when you make a request for a poem, V says nothing but smiles slightly and acquiesced.


	6. Everything On It-Shel Silverstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between the dialogue prompt I found and SS poem, I couldn't resist :D
> 
> Prompt: "No-I have no idea how she found lipstick in the apocalypse-we're literally in the middle of nowhere."

* * *

"Hold up!" You hissed grabbing Nico's arm before she could bump into you.

"Girl, we're in a hurry-what the hell are you doing?"

"Putting on lipstick." You ignore the stunned silence that follows, tracing the bright red-and it does not match you at all but you wanted it, damn it!-tube across you lips and smacking them before pocketing it with a grin. "Ok, now I'm ready."

She snorts and practically shoves you out the door towards the boys. It's food hunting day and one of the few duties you can help with but the others just stare at you. Your lips stark against your face since it was the only tub you'd found.

"What?" You muttered, only a little embarrassed but you refuse to wipe it off, lifting you chin and sauntering towards the nearest store. But you can still hear them and feel your ears turn red as Nico's voice raises above the questions in exasperation.

"No-I've got no idea how she found lipstick in this wreck-we're literally in the middle of nowhere."

"Can't help hunt demons but she can find that thing-in this-" The disbelief in Trishs' voice is almost enough to make you wipe it off until she continues, "and not share?"

"You could just ask." You call back as you pick your way into the store, wanting to be as far away from the group as possible. Logically the bird follows you. "Go away."

"So, who you tryin' to impress?" His smug tone says he knows very well and you groan. 

"If you're not going to help get lost, Iago." You mutter irritably. Of course, he ignores you, prattling on as you mumble the other poem you had saved for V. You can kind of understand why he likes them so much now.

"and that was my big mistake  
'cause it came with a parrot." 

"Who you callin' a parrot?!"

"You! You big bird brained nuisance!" You shriek tossing the nearest can of something at him before stomping away. He can make fun of you all he liked, it was pretty and you were already wearing it. Just for you...and maybe if someone took notice fine. It had been a pain in the ass to find it so it was worth it you thought, smiling a little as you grabbed another can for your bag.


	7. Sonnet 30-William Shakespear

Lady set you down on the ground and looks behind her with a shake of her head but it's her words that make you giggle. The sound more strained than it should be when she wanders off, her form changing shape in the heat waves as her voice rings out over her shoulder.

"This is exactly why I tell you don't leave the van!"

Your eyes slip shut.

* * *

_“This. This is exactly why I tell you don’t go out alone.”_

_“Just get me down, you dick!” You call out, now that the threat is gone along with the adrenaline all you want is to not be hanging by some demonic slime. But only more laughter follows._

_“I wish, this whole dry spell is killing me.”_

_“That is horrible. I hate you. I lied. Leave me here to die.”_

_“I mean, it’d be cheaper for you.”_

_You’re about to punch your sister in her smug face when she finally cuts you down. She doesn’t bother to catch you and you stumble, skinning your knees as she squats in front of you, hand out._

_“No freebies, sweetie.”_

_You dig out your wallet and throw it in her face, “When I die, I coming back as money, money you can't have!”_

_“That is the stupidest threat you’ve given me to date.” She says, laughing anew as she hauls you up._

* * *

"‘When to the sessions of sweet silent thought  
I summon up remembrance of things past,  
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,  
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste..." 

V's voice reaches your ears before his presence does, wrenching the memory away as you quickly wipe your eyes and stare at the offered cloth in confusion. He smiles slightly, more of a smirk and points to your head while the Griffon translates, "You're bleeding, moron."

"Oh!" You push the cloth to your head, "Thanks."

"Are you injured anywhere else?"

"What-" you realize he means your tears and shake you head with a rueful smile, "Nope. Just a...thinking."

"About how not to fail at everything?" The bird chirps unhelpfully. You roll your eyes.

"Yeah that."

V just gives you a half smile, more real than his previous. His earlier words ringing in your ears, "Memories can be the worst form of pain."

"I'd rather have the pain than not." You answer softly after a few moments, to which neither V nor Griffon makes a comment. Leaving you to get lost in your memories till everyone gets back.


	8. When I Am Gone-Shel Silverstein

"V! Nero! You can't leave me here!"

"You shouldn't even be here!" Nero snaps back as V sets you against the rocks.

"You'll be safe here until they can come back and get you."

Your eyes water, "Please. V. I said I'd go with you," you had also said you wouldn't cry, "I won't get in the way! I helped you get them back, you can't just-"

His lips kiss is so gentle it's almost like he hadn't even really touched you. His cracking skin brushing against your cheeks as he begins to whisper fondly, his voice straining under the weight of just keeping himself together but in your selfishness you know you'd rather him turn to dust here than wherever they were going.

"When I am gone what will you do?"

"Cry." You his back and he laughs a little before continuing.

"Who will write and draw for you?"

"You can't draw for shit anyway." You mutter, wishing you could do more at least touch his face but your limbs won't move from whatever he's paralyzed you with.

"Someone smarter—someone new?"

"I don't want someone smarter. I just want you, V." But you can't beg him to stay, the words won't pass your lips even as it halts his poem, tripping him up. "Finish it."

And he does.

"Someone better—maybe you..."

"I love you."

He pressed one last kiss to your temple in response and you can't watch as Nero practically has to lift him away and drags him to somewhere you can't follow.


	9. Hinges and Poison-Shel Silverstein and William Blake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Shel Silverstein's poem "Hinges"
> 
> V quotes the first verse of "A Poison Tree" by William Blake

* * *

V was acting strange.

The man was an enigma on the best of days but after the fight with Angels? Angols? Whoever the hell they were Nero had mentioned to leave him alone for a bit. But it had been over an hour since he’d said a word. 

You couldn’t say you were the best to give advice on handling emotions since your response was to break things but this seemed worse somehow. His page turning bordering on aggressive as if it took all his self-restraint not to tear each page out. 

“Hey poet.” It took him several moments to answer even if his fingers had stilled immediately, you pressed on cautiously, “You ever done gardening?”

“…I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” 

“Great. Then get your lazy ass over here and help.” You called back cheerfully, he wasn’t usually one to argue but you could see the annoyance clearly on his face for once, fleeting as it was. “No, seriously, the van isn’t gonna move and you’re a cripple. Might as well get used to the only hobby you can do, old man.”

The book snapped shut with a crack that made you wince, “Since you’ve asked so kindly.”

“Yup.” You murmured and sucked in your lips as you contemplated how to phrase the next part. The ‘garden’ needed no help. A sad broken tub with sad, pathetic greens you’ve salvaged when you’d left. But the metal tub Nico had cheerfully stuck to the side of the van for you to plant more, that one always had trouble. The short walk down the steps and out the door was tense, you expected him to simply walk away after you left the van, but he stopped dutifully if front of the planter. “So. I, uh, neglected it a bit. Been busy, you know? Well, you probably don’t since you’re off fighting and shit. It kind of pisses me off that you can just go out and hit something and I can’t even leave the van half the time.”

He eyed you carefully now as you continued on like you didn’t notice, “And I can’t throw things at you guys if you aren’t here but that’s alright. ‘Cause I just leave this baby for a few days and boom—demon weeds. Nasty, aren’t they?”

Spores of some kind, that tainted the plants and probably the dirt. It’s why you tried to grow most things inside but space was limited. 

“Yes.” Curt and you could practically taste his annoyance. 

“Right, so, I just grab a weed and pull.” He did and as expected it snapped. “That was a shitty job."

“You didn’t say it—”

“Shut up, poet, this is stuff I’m teaching.” V had never been particularly physical like the others but he looked like he was about to throw the plant in your face. Good. “You have to pull it slowly, get to the root of the problem—if you know what I mean—” he looked almost pained by the joke and you continued blissfully, “just…pretend it’s an enemies head or mine, whatever floats your boat. Gripe nice and tight near the base then—” you gave a sharp tug and it came out roots and all, “rip it out.”

He was far from a stupid man. His eyes assessed you like he knew exactly what you were trying to do but he pulled another anyway. 

Then another.

This one hard enough to pull out chunks of dirt. 

And again.

You stepped back and watch him weed. It was short work but his fast movements had him looking a little wild eyed and winded as he pulled out the last one. You gave him a few minutes then stepped forward again slowly cautiously taking his hand to get him to release the last clump, “See? Now they’re gone so I can plant something new and nicer.”

Absolute silence met your words. Before he dusted off his hands and walked back to the van, his words so soft you almost missed them.

“I was angry with my friend;  
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
I was angry with my foe:  
I told it not, my wrath did grow.”

Yeah. Still no idea what the hell he was talking about but it sounded a little bit like a thanks.


End file.
